The Writer's Assistant (ManxMan)

Chapter 1: Oliver Carl...Son?

Q/A: When/Where/Day you started this book?/

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He looked like a homeless man.

I stood about eye-level to his nipples, and had to raise my chin to look at the person casting a shadow over me. His hair was a frizzy mess, fluffy and uncombed, covering half his eyes. I couldn't tell if his eyes were blue or grey or... Green?

His scruffy bear hid the shape of his face. Whether his face was round or square was a mystery. The man wore an oversized T-shirt with a funny duck cartoon. I didn't want to judge him, but it looked like he bought his shirt at the cheapest store because it was in the 80% sale aisle. There was also a food stain near his chest. Or blood.

He took a long sip of his coffee which had a rainbow corgi sticker printed beside the handle. It was the most bizarre design I'd seen.

His outfit wasn't the only thing that was a mess. It looked like a tornado tarnished everything in his house. Books and notebooks were scattered across the floor, there were unopened pizza boxes, dirty dishes stacked in the sink... It looked as bad as a college student's first month out of the house. Was that why there was such a musty scent?

"I'm sorry, I think I've got the wrong place," I chuckled nervously, unable to unsee his shirt's smiling, rainbow duck.

"Who are you looking for?" He asked, raising his thick square glasses with his thumb and almost spilling his coffee.

"Oliver Carlson."

"That's me."

I stared at him blankly.

"You're Oliver Carlson?" I asked, dumbstruck.

"Says it on the back." Right when I thought his shirt couldn't get quirkier, he turned around and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, showing me his name printed on the backside of his shirt.

Oliver... Carl?

He noticed the look on my face.

"There wasn't enough space for the last syllable," he explained.

This had to be a joke. But considering the serious look on his face, it seemed it wasn't.

"What do you need me for?" He went on.

"I'm..." Speechless. I tried my best to speak in a steady tone. "I was assigned to be your new assistant."

"Assistant?" He echoed, scratching his scruffy beard. "I thought I was broke."

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

"Very interesting," he grunted.

I inhaled quietly, remembering my months of training. Stay polite and professional.

"Your editor, Camilia Lopez, contacted me saying you needed an assistant. She told me you've been missing all your deadlines and thought an assistant would help you stay more organized."

That's not exactly what she said. She said that Oliver needed to get his life together.

"An assistant," he hummed again, still stuck on the thought. "I guess having an assistant wouldn't be bad. How long are you here for?"

I couldn't believe he wasn't aware of any of this. Didn't Camilla tell him any of this? Maybe I shouldn't have accepted this job, but the pay was pretty high.

"For a year, sir."

I was surprised by his deep, rich laughter. His broad shoulders shook slightly.

"Sir? Nobody's called me that since I left the military," he murmured. "You can call me Oliver." A pause. "Or Carl, whichever you prefer."

A smile cracked on my face. I guess underneath all that hair, he had a sense of humor.

"Oh, my name is Daniel White," I quickly introduced myself, handing him my business card. He took it and stared at it as if it were a foreign thing. "Your new personal assistant."

He nodded, tucking the business card somewhere deep inside his pocket. I was certain he'd forget about it and end up finding it scrunched up in the laundry. I guess Oliver really did need an assistant.

I stood at the door frame, awkwardly waiting for him to say something or at least invite me in. Oliver didn't seem bothered by the silence and stood there, staring at me as he sipped his coffee.

"May I come in?" I finally cracked.

"Oh, sure," he said, stepping aside. "You can sit anywhere you'd like. Make yourself at home."

I managed to find a small spot on the couch that wasn't dirty.

"Do you want anything to drink anything?" He asked.

"No, thank you."

"Good, I'm out of clean cups," he said, staring at the sink. "I haven't washed them since..."

I waited for him to finish his sentence, but his voice faded. Even he didn't seem to recall the last time he washed the dishes. He sat in front of me, taking another sip of his coffee. I made a mental note that he drank black coffee. It was important to take notice of these things when you were an assistant. The question now was whether he added sugar or not.

"So, Daniel, tell me about yourself."

My back straightened when he said my name.

"I work in a management agency for celebrities. My recent contract ended, so I was looking through some profiles until one of my co-workers mentioned your name. I've seen your books in libraries and bookstores, and I'm actually a big fan of your work," I said shyly. "Your writing is absolutely fabulous. The way you captivate your readers has to be a gift. And your best selling book-"

He snored.

My mouth snapped shut, thinking he was joking, but his head tilted to the side and his shoulders slumped slightly, and... and and was asleep. I didn't know if I was shocked by how quickly he blacked out or offended that he fell asleep while I was talking. Oliver let out another snore, and my brows pulled together. I twiddled my thumbs, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes, but it didn't look like he was going to wake up any time soon.

I let out a small sigh. Then again, he did look pretty tired when I arrived. Camilla mentioned that Oliver was preparing for his new book and barely had time to rest. He was a bestselling author, so it was normal he'd be busy.

When I was offered this job, I didn't know what kind of man I'd work for. Oliver Carlson was a bestselling author, but nobody knew much about him. The man was a gifted mystery. He never took interviews so it was impossible to find videos of him online. He seemed reserved and stayed away from the public eye. I wanted to know about Oliver because I'd been a fan of his books since I miraculously found one in my university's library.

I imagined Oliver to be a ravishingly charismatic man with a brilliant mind and fine wits. Never had I thought Oliver would be a man who wore funny cartoon T-shirts with half his name printed on the back.

I stood up and took the coffee cup out of his hands, setting it on the table. I glanced at him one more time and still couldn't make out the shape of his face. Oliver Carlson still seemed to be a mystery, but as I looked at him, I couldn't help but wonder what color his eyes were.

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A/N: Thoughts on the first chapter? What do you guys think of Oliver? 🤭

This book is quite different with a unique story plot! I had so much fun writing this ><

See you guys in the next chapter! Please leave a vote and add this to your reading list so you don't an update. See you soon ♡♡♡